


Monster Lover Arlo

by Pastel Comma (Regina_Hark)



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Breeding, Consentacles, Dom/sub Undertones, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Femdom, First Time, Gentle femdom, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, LitRPG, Monster Girls, Monster sex, Multi, Other, Oviposition, PWP, Pheromones, Plant Girls, Praise Kink, Predator/Prey, Scenting, Sex Pollen, Shapeshifting, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles on Male, Video Game Mechanics, Weird Biology, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-04-01
Packaged: 2018-10-06 23:44:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10347330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Regina_Hark/pseuds/Pastel%20Comma
Summary: A [Villager] living in the sleepy village of Haiden’s Hamlet.His lazy days come to an end when he accidentally seduces a monster spawn.





	1. Wait! Shouldn't There Be A Tutorial?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo stares a little blankly.
> 
> “I have impressive stats too,” he mumbles with Lady Death hovering in his doorway. “Err, shop?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a lot of free time this spring break so I have a couple of chapters written in advance. I'm just going over them slowly. So I guess I can safely say updates twice every Saturday.

Arlo fights himself awake.

There’s a sound. No… sounds. He sits up, trying to pick through the banging going on in the shop and the ruckus outside. What is that noise? It’s coming and going in a pattern. Far too organized to be random noises. Arlo groans. It would be so simple to turn over and ignore it. He groans again. Arlo rolls his shoulders and glances at his bedroom window. The glass is frosted over. White ice eating up the outside frame like he didn’t scrape it off hours before. Arlo snorts.

This isn’t his fault.

Uncle Visse must have forgotten to turn the heat on again.

Arlo clicks his teeth.

That is if the forgetful fart even remembered he had one.

Living with Uncle Visse in town is beginning to be a real pain in his ass. Ever since his uncle came back and opened this potion shop, there has been nothing but trouble. Who sells rotten potions? Why would anyone want an empty bottle? Where was the value in taking in the junk adventurers dropped off?

Arlo couldn’t begin to understand his uncle’s business sense.

He just knows his parents expects him to keep the place from burning down. Impossible.

Arlo yawns.

His room in the shop is more or less the same like it would be on the farm. Four sturdy walls. A bed. A desk. A chair. He brings his eyes to glare at the desk. A stack of papers are there, their looming white sheets threatening him with paper cuts from afar. In Uncle Visse’s words, the man is more of a ‘big picture’ guy. He couldn’t be bothered to go through the bills or item inventory or shipping inbox. So all of those responsibilities landed in Arlo's unwilling lap.

The bastard should be grateful Arlo finished with his schooling a year ago or they’d both be in trouble.

Arlo drags a hand through his brown hair. He should go find out what’s making the noise. Either in the shop or outside. Arlo glances at the window again. He can’t see anything definite through the creeping ice but there are some odd colors being flashed back and forth. Black smog. Reddish mist floating on the lazy winter wind.

The old shop creaks.

Did he really, really want to know?

He’ll be obligated to do something about it as the shop’s only employee.

Arlo swings his legs over to the side. Regrets it. His bare feet meet agony in the form of a messy bedroom floor. The freezing hardwood stabs into his soles and he’s off, grabbing yesterday’s clothes hanging on the chair and runs out of the room. With spring just around the corner, he’s gotten ahead of himself when it comes to sleepwear. At the farmhouse, he’d never rush around in nothing but a pair of boxers. The Brey farmstead had too many nosy visitors for that laid back lifestyle to fly.

With a long winter this year, he’s gotten paler than usual. White skin almost ash pale.

But with the list of duties choking his free time, he’s hasn’t gotten any less fit. He shuffles down the hall, regretting each step. This time, he’ll lose his toes, he’s sure of it. He slides on his gray tunic and black slacks. The extra layer of fabric warms him up but his feet are still suffering.

Passing the stairs heading down, Arlo reaches the heat switch.

He fiddles with the knobs and the large magic gear that controls all of the magic wards in the building. The warming ward is switched on. All of the pipes of the potion shop rattle, creaking through the old frame. Arlo rubs his hands together. Finally, the heat begins to rise. Warmth grows through the hardwood floors, toasting his feet nicely.

Arlo breathes a sigh of relief. Wiggles his toes.

Great.

He still has all ten.

Arlo looks towards the stairs’ railing. The light’s on downstairs. Arlo groans. He isn’t just a shop employee. He’s also an uncle babysitter. It really is a shame that the shop isn’t in more capable hands. Uncle Visse went to all the trouble to refurbish the old storehouse into a new potion shop and he’s never going to run it right. Arlo knows his M.O. Visse buys a place. Loads up on all the junk he could get his hands on. Then runs before the Royal Contraband Committee could get their hands on him.

Supposedly, Uncle Visse paid his debts to society after his last con.

But if that’s the case, why did Arlo have to forge all the legal documents to a Mister Viktor?

The banging below his feet gets louder and he rolls his eyes. Either its his uncle trying to offload some bad merchandise to a pack of tourists or it’s a band of adventurers that couldn’t read the sign, “We’re Closed.” Knowing Visse, it’s probably both. But he has to go and check to be sure. Don’t blame the cat for what the dog brought home and all that.

Arlo carries on to the end of the hall.

His uncle’s room sits next to the bathroom. Arlo would have been a little jealous if he didn’t know what the scientist likes to brew in the tub. He knocks politely. “Uncle. Uncle?” Then outright kicks the door open. He used to be a politer person, he swears. It’s just the faster Arlo can get Visse to double think about recreating a mage’s explosion spell in the shop, the less likely they won’t die... That day.

“Spirits, why can’t you ever air out your room?”

Arlo does not step inside. Having to wash his clothing daily from the potion fumes is already too much washing in his opinion. It doesn’t matter. The sour stench of a cauldron’s crust and chemical salt greet him like an old enemy. He bats them away as best he can. Ugh, how can his uncle stand this? Arlo’s eyes roam the stale room. It matches his uncle’s personality pretty well. There’s a cot and nothing else that could be considered normal. Uncle Visse has several portable cauldron set up in his room. They’re apparently for his personal experiments. Other than that, the room is packed to the ceiling with reference guides and books on local flora and fauna.

He closes the door and heads down the hallway.

According to his poor nose, Uncle Visse hasn’t been up here for a few hours. Weird. There’s never an old smell in his uncle’s room. Visse usually leaves a cauldron on to boil for a few hours.

Arlo heads to the railing and follows it down to the start of the staircase. He really, really, doesn’t want to think of what it could be. A pack of adventurers wanting a refund. Traveling thieves puking their guts out by the register. His uncle blackmailing the local priestess into drinking his latest batch of poison.

He groans and makes his way down.

Why didn’t he just go back to bed? His parents raised him too well.

Now on the first floor, Arlo finds what he expected. Trouble. His uncle isn’t here and everything that should’ve been nailed down is everywhere. The front door is ajar. He sees on the street people running back and forth, chased by creatures made from that blackish fog.

But more than that, where’s the broom?

Almost all of the display merchandise is broken and on the floor, staining the rugs meant to brighten up the old place. Chairs are broken. Sofas have been thrown. The cash register is still in one piece, thank Aulra, but how the hell is he suppose to…

“Hey! Arlo! What are you doing?”

The voice catches him off guard. He’s moving over to the counter and is counting the number of rotten potions they have on sell. Maybe he could tell his uncle they were also destroyed by mysterious raiders. Shamelessly, he uncorks one and starts pouring it on the floor. He’ll have to mop tomorrow anyway.

Arlo looks up.

“We’re under attack?” he reasons. “Smog creatures are attacking the village.”

Arlo knows the face.

It’s… Minra. The girl who works at the cafe shop. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Three sisters.

She looks over her shoulder before she looks back at him.

“You’re taking this awfully well.”

“We got picked for the annual monster raid, right?" he says, confused by the look she's giving him. Was he growing horns or something? She's waiting for him to say something so he continues, blabbing. "Uhh, the kingdom sent its knights to chase all their monsters into a village for both training and exterminating purposes. They got to learn how to fight around civilians and we get the leftovers of the monsters.”

Arlo thinks for a moment.

“I’m not really interested in participating if that's what you're looking for. I’ll wait it out here. You guys have fun with your screaming fest.”

“Is that what you think is happening?”

Arlo shrugs.

“Yeah.”

Monster raids has never been his thing.

Even when he was a kid, he was never interested in them. Monsters show up one day and villagers are stuck cleaning up the next two weeks. Monster raids might be fun for the folks who got to run around like clueless villagers for the knights. But for everyone else, it’s extra chores. Plus, the knights draw even more monsters around. It is not fun to be out the house when that happens. Tripping over a fucking slime because so idiot knight decided to get drunk on the sidewalk.

But he’ll admit, he’s a little surprised. Wasn’t the village by the mountain suppose to handle the monster raid this month?

Minra takes a deep breath. “We’re under attack.”

"Okay. I think I said that a while ago."

"No." she shakes her head. "There are monsters attacking the village with the _intent_ of attacking the village."

"Now I'm just more confused. Isn't that what's suppose to happen?"

"It's not my fault that you don't understand." Minra gestures to the others in the streets. "Why is everyone I'm warning like this! The monsters are going into the houses!"

What?

"Are you playing a joke, Minra? We went to school together. You know well enough that monsters can't enter human houses."

Even if the monsters broke past the ward stones that surround the village, they couldn't enter human homes in a humanized zone. Natural magic and all that. It’s the same reason why we can’t invade monster dens in a monster-controlled zone. Even if there’s a huge horde of monsters passing through, they’d need to go out of their way to break every single stone and-

“You’re not getting it. We’re, I repeat, under attack. It’s a boss monster! The wards stone are-”

One of the smog monsters swoop around Minra, stealing her breath. She briefly struggles before her eyes go blank and she smiles, drooling. Arlo takes a step forward. “Minra?” The girl sways from side to side, that smog substance sticking to her clothing. Plant roots rise up from the ground. Leaf skin stretches out from each root and with them, Minra is captured in a monstrous bud. The plant prison glows and he can see her outline being dragged into the earth.

Arlo moves to the front door and looks outside.

“W-what?!”

Roots and vines are growing over main street, diving in and out of homes. It’s gathering the people. Putting them inside of plant buds and delivering them to where all the vines are growing from. Arlo lifts up his head. A boss monster. A horrific plant creature sits onto of the town’s hall, bloated and disfigured from the eyes and black bulbs growing out its massive face. The bulbs shudder. Their dust falls and transforms into more of those smog creatures.

Arlo takes another good look at it.

It’s still there. Massive. Disgusting. Human-eating.

Only adventurers could take something like that down.

“I’m going back to bed.”

Arlo goes to step back inside and a smog creature flies straight for him. He manages to shut the door in time and backs away. The potion shop creaks and groans. White sparks pop and flash against the walls. It couldn’t be… Not the house wards. No monster cares beyond the village wards. They’d never go after the house ones. The entire structure roars and the white sparks grow into a burning flame. Then it goes out. Forever. The smog creature slips through the cracks of the door. Unharmed. Not repelled by the magic that should be working.

In front of his eyes, the potion shop reveal the stats of the invader.

[Warning! Warning! Warning!]

[A hostile monster has entered the shop.]

> [SPAWN] Pollen Phantom Alraune
> 
> [LVL]: 53
> 
> [Species]: Monster
> 
> [Race]: Plant/Specter
> 
> [HP]: 5000/5000 (+5000/sec)
> 
> [MP]: 3000/3000

Arlo stares a little blankly.

“I have impressive stats too,” he mumbles with Lady Death hovering in his doorway. “Err, shop?”

> [Villager] Arlo Brey
> 
> [LVL]: Undefined
> 
> [Species]: Human
> 
> [Race]: Non-Participation Character (NPC)
> 
> [HP]: 100/100
> 
> [MP]: 10/10

“I don’t want to have to hurt you?”

Here ends the short life of Arlo Brey, dead man.


	2. Monster Encounter!!!: Pollen Phantom Alraune!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo breathes like he did before. Deep. Flighty. Embarrassingly. “Ah~” he moans for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This set of chapters involves the mysterious [SPAWN] Pollen Phantom Alraune, a spawn monster from Boss Beast Spore.
> 
> Associated Kinks: World-building and set-up. Slight femdom.

In front of Arlo’s eyes, the potion shop scans and reveals the stats of the invader. A transparent screen forms over the creature’s head and upon its crystalline panel, names appear and numbers are calculating. Measuring the creature’s killing intent and murderous resistance to a horrifying degree. There’s no way he can take it on. Arlo blanches and back into the counter. It’s all he’s allowed to do now as a [Villager].

This defense mechanism isn’t for him, a villager, but for the adventurer that will come by. Eventually.

[Emergency! Emergency! Emergency!]

[A hostile creature has invaded the potion shop.]

What little energy of the house wards that is left is being directed to the outside. Likely creating a quest marker for any adventurers that might wandering outside. Arlo glances to the door. This couldn’t be happening. As a villager, he only has two choices. If his heath level is lower than the invading monster, he can attempt to run and hide. If his heath level is higher, then he must attempt to fend it off. Crap.

The creature’s stat screen is finished. 

> [SPAWN] Pollen Phantom Alraune
> 
> [LVL]: 53
> 
> [Species]: Monster
> 
> [Race]: Plant/Specter
> 
> [HP]: 5000/5000 (+5000/sec)
> 
> [MP]: 3000/3000

*Monster Note: Despite its nature-based origin, the Pollen Phantom Alraune is more ghost than plant. With the ability to reform itself from the pollen in the air, the monster is near invulnerable to most physical and magical attacks. Using holy blessed weapons and skills is highly recommended.

Arlo stares a little blankly.

The pollen phantom is reforming itself inside of the shop. No longer is a shapeless mass of death and night, black smog mixing with red smoke. It grows a woman’s shape. It or rather, she, floats closer to the ground. He marvels at her.

Her cloud-like form drifts gently in an unseen wind. Skin as black as midnight.

The red smoke that followed her dark figure is transformed.

Her hair is a red as a rose, falling over her small shoulders in thick, flowery ringlets. She looks like a princess outside of a picture book. Regal and unknowable. Her eyes are open, pupil-less red things. Within them, he sees nothing but instinct and violence. Beyond that, her body is beautiful. Voluptuous. Large nipple-less breasts sit on her shadowy figure. Thick hips leading to misty lower legs and little else. She doesn’t have feet. He supposes that she doesn’t need them with the ability to fly as she likes.

“I have impressive stats too,” Arlo mumbles, “Err, shop?”

He already knows he doesn’t. What could a villager do against a spawn of a boss monster? It’s only a distraction while he plots his path of escape. She registers his words. The pollen phantom turns to his direction with her unblinking gaze and alien face. Again, he marvels at her. She’s gone out her way and formed some ears to go along with her female form. He thinks a phantom creature wouldn’t need them.

The potion shop goes along with his farce.

> [Villager] Arlo Brey
> 
> [LVL]: Undefined
> 
> [Species]: Human
> 
> [Race]: Non-Participating Character (NPC)
> 
> [HP]: 100/100
> 
> [MP]: 10/10

*Monster Note: A common variety of human prey. Villagers gather together to make a stronghold called a [Village]. Inside a [Village], the human prey can create weapons and healing areas for stronger humans such as [Adventurer] or [Knight]. Strong in a group, they are weak alone. Kill slowly to preserve the meat. They rot quickly.

Gee, thanks shop.

Arlo holds his hands up. Maybe he could talk his way out of this?

“If you leave now, I won’t hurt you?”

The pollen phantom only drifts closer.

Arlo sighs. It was worth a shot.

He runs. The pollen phantom is quick to follow. On his way, he scoops up a couple of rotten potions. If physical and magical attack don’t work, how about some stat debuffs? He aim and throws. The bottles sail harmlessly through the phantom’s form. They smash on the floor, leaving only shards and poisoned wood.

[Physical and Magical attacks are ineffective at this time.]

Right…

Throwing something still counted as a physical attack, didn’t it?

Arlo uncorks a bottle and throws the liquid towards her. Yes! Direct hit! The rotten potion splashes onto her form and she absorbs it much a cloud does to water. Arlo glances at her status bar.

[Updating Hostile Monster’s Status.]

 

> [SPAWN] Pollen Phantom Alraune
> 
> [HP] 5100/5000 (+5000/sec)
> 
> [MP]: 3000
> 
> [Current Status]: Poisoned (Poison debuffs heal plant-based monsters)

“You said she was more specter than plant, shop!”

Arlo carries on, dropping his load of poisoned potions. There has to be something in the shop he can use. He goes for the antidotes, the copper needles, magick fragments his uncle bought off morons. The antidotes fail. The copper needles fly and hit the walls. And the magick frags… Well…

[You do not have the required Magic Intelligence (Mu Int) for this action.]

“Seriously! They’re my rocks. You don’t have the right to tell me I can’t cast a simple fire spell.”

[You do not have the required general Intelligence (Int) for this action]

“Are you calling me stupid? I feel that you’re calling me stupid. Who let the monster in here? It wasn’t me.”

Arlo finds himself at the feet of the stairs. Fuck. Upstairs or downstairs? There’s no easy way down from the second floor beyond the stairs behind him. But does he even want to go through the back and into the streets? There has to be more of these pollen phantoms out there. The noise outside hasn’t stop. In fact, it sounds even louder. Just where were they? The knights. The adventurers. The hero candidates. Monster raids weren’t supposed to happen like this. Arlo takes a second too long.

The pollen phantom sweeps around him, engulfing him into her form.

What is this?

[Villager under attack!]

[20 out of 100 hp lost.]

He’s inside of her cloud-like mass, face buried inside of her marshmallow tits. It’s strange to both feel the sensation of flesh while falling through it. She’s warm. Soft even. Something grips his throat and he’s forced to open his mouth. Breathe. Breathe! He gasps and inhales. She’s pushing herself inside of him. Choking him with her pollen body. Everything’s going blurry and bright. The shapes of things fading out of focus as the pollen pours into his mouth and nose. So sweet. So relaxing. Giving in.

She’s embracing him, cooing like the monster she is. Her breasts moving to cover his face.

Was this fun for her? Suffocating humans to death?

[40 out of 100 hp lost.]

Arlo struggles. His vision is growing weak. It’s hard to pull away. It’s hard to even want to pull away. He starts to drool. He can taste her. On his tongue, pollen and sugar gather. The saliva drips down his chin and the pollen phantom tilts his face up. She kisses him. Her darkest pollen rushes in. He swallows it down, light-headed. Is he floating? It feels like he drifting further and further away.

Everything’s so fuzzy…

[60 out of 100 hp lost.]

What are these soft things around his head? They’re so jiggly. He weakly lifts his arms up, groping against them. Her breasts bounce against his palms. They’re so big and foamy. Like whipped cream in a cup of ice cream. He squishes their misty form, the breasts forming and reforming around his fingers.

The pollen phantom squeaks. The first sound he’s heard from her all this time. It sounds... cute.

Arlo blink his bleary eyes and pulls back his hands.

There’s no need to make a fuss now. He’s as good as dead.

[80 out of 100 hp lost]

The pollen phantom grabs his hand and pulls it back to her chest. Their fingers entwined, she drags his palm over her breast. Huh? She wants him to touch her? The texture of her hand changes every second. It’s there and then’s it not. It reminds of steam rising from a fresh cup of tea.

He indulges her.

Arlo rubs his hand over her breast, squeezing and groping it. The pollen phantom leans closer in. His fingers circle where her nipple would be, pinching the smooth cloud-flesh. She’s louder. The sound isn’t coming from her mouth. It emanates from all of her. He guess it has to do with a fact that she’s a living cloud. She rubs the whole of her body against him, squeaking and squirming.

The pollen phantom moves her hand to his tunic, tugging on the low collar.

She’s pulling it down, exposing his chest. What did she- Her misty hands rub against his nipple, teasing it into hardness. He take a sharp intake. The pollen phantom stiffens at that. Why? He accidentally takes more of her in. His lungs tickle. Itch. But the monster, she’s acting different. Now hardened, she rubs her thumb against it. Grinding with purpose. He tries to push away from her. This is getting weird-

She pinches his nipple.

“Ah~”

His earlobes are burning. He can feel his blush spread through his cheeks before sweeping down. He’s always been an awful blusher. Arlo averts his eyes. Men weren’t suppose to sound so silly… He’s twenty-one for goodness’ sake. A farm boy now shop assistant. He could count one hand on how often he made those weird and wrong sounds. His face feels even hotter. Igniting. He fidgets.

The pollen phantom studies him. For what reason, he’ll never understand.

She breathes on him. Watching how he begins to fidget even more. Couldn’t she just end this and save him from the shame? He looks up into the crimson void of her eye-sockets and tries to will his embarrassment away. She’s a monster. A human-eating monster. There is nothing here for him to be blushing about. Nipples or otherwise.

The pollen phantom condenses her shape, solidifying as much as her misty form could.

His head no longer is caught between her see-through breasts but mounds of a firm form. Her round breasts dangle over him as she explores his clothing. Her hands pulling and plucking at his tunic. Arlo supposing she wouldn’t know much about the concept of clothing and modesty. She murmurs at him. Her voice wispy and light like a conversation held in another room. He can’t decipher any words in them.

But her tone…

She sounds curious. Wanting.

The pollen phantom goes to his loose collar.

Her hands circle the visible strip of bare flesh, warm air brushing against his collarbone and neck. Her breasts press even harder against the back of his nape. Back and forth. If the monster been an ordinary girl, he’d swear she was trying to grind against him.

She moves to grabbing his collar and pulls the tunic around his shoulders.

Arlo grabs at his shirt and the pollen phantom laughs, her voice like a lingering echo in an empty house. He blushes. Again. Just what is this new air around them? Weren’t they enemies? Weren’t they monster and prey? Just where did she get off on stringing him along like this. The pollen phantom gropes his flat chest. Her fingers striding across his vulnerable skin.

Despite having no pupils, he’s beginning to see the changes in her motion-less face.

How a little spark appears when he fidgets from her touch. How she’s imitating him, breath to breath.

It’s… confusing.

The pollen phantom hones in on his nipples, playing and teasing them into hardness. They grow more sensitive. Their peach color turning red from her fun. He pants. His breath growing quick and fast. Was this her way of getting back at him from earlier? She couldn’t actually be interested in him in ‘that’ way.

Arlo bites his lip, trying to slow his breathing down.

Why couldn’t she let him die in peace?

A pressure grows around his throat and his mouth falls open.

Those lewd sounds. He can’t stop them from escaping. It must be the pollen. It must be the low hp messing with his head. All of the blood that should be in his head is heading south. He widens his stance. Suddenly, his boxers are pretty uncomfortable around his stiffening cock.

The pollen phantom finishes with his nipples and pushes herself over him, looking at his face.

“What?” he coughs. “What do you want?”

She touches his face, fingers dragging across the redden skin and touch his lips. Her mouth opens. “Ah~” She’s somehow plays back his own voice. That sound. That embarrassing sound. He looks away. Tries to at least. She follow him, moving her head to block anything else that isn’t her face or form.

The pollen phantom makes that sound again.

Arlo cringes.

“Ah?”

The pollen phantom smiles. Nods and gestures at him.

“Ah?” he repeats.

There.

Is she happy?

She makes a breathing motion. Her breasts bob and grow, inflating with the influx of air.

Okay…

Arlo breathes like he did before. Deep. Flighty. Embarrassingly. “Ah~” he moans for her.

 

[100 out of 100 hp lost.]  
[Villager has died.]  
[Quest Failed!]

 

* * *

 

 

[Spawn to Boss Monster link disconnected!]

[Monster Evolution in 3… 2… 1…]

...

…

...

[Reassessing previous stats...]

[Nature’s tear activated!]

[Heath Restored: 100/100]

…

…

…

[Redefining Quest’s Parameters…]

[????]

[Accept: Yes/No?]

 

* * *

 

Black pollen is being coaxed from his body. Each inhale and exhale taking away the burden of his strained lungs. With the chance of life in its grasp, his corpse entraps his ghostly form. The balls of light drop back onto the corpse and is absorbed back inside. Wait- Wait! He’d accepted death!

In the darkness as he’s being dragged back, Arlo sees something of an angel shrugging her shoulders.

“And I was looking forward to finally get my hands on a good quality soul. Buh-bye til later, kid.”

His corpse and his conciseness join together. Arlo’s senses rush back in. It’s overwhelming. Terrifying. But there’s this soft mouth on his. Plump and perfect. It moves his lips for him, aiding the process of purifying his lungs. Weakly, Arlo grabs onto their shoulders. Digs in. His lungs begin to move.

Arlo breathes.

“I did it,” the voice says and the mouth kisses him. “I brought you back!”

Vision returns to his opened eyes. He blinks and concentrates on the blob in front of his face.

There’s a… girl? She’s resting onto of his chest. Hands pressing against his torso, pumping.

Arlo’s sight clears up and the first thing he notices is that she’s naked.

* * *

[Supreme Rare Chance! Acquired new title and job class: Demon Lord Candidate!]

[Associated skills and traits are as followed:]

Monster Allure

Monster Language Knowledge: Plant-beast

Monster Thrall Resistance

Dungeon Core lvl 1

???? ???? ????

[Do you accept?: Yes/No?]

...

...

...

[Redefining Villager's Attributes...]

...

...

...

[Update done!]

[Welcome, Villager (*DLC) Arlo!]

 


	3. Round One: Pretty Phantom Alraune?! (VANILLA)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arlo lays against her chest, feeling her body breathe. He doesn't feel a heartbeat. That's okay. He has a heart big enough for the both of them.
> 
> "Sleep with me, okay?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the vanilla fucks who can't handle tentacle sex up the arse, am I right? 
> 
> There is sex in this chapter. Loads of it. Enjoy.
> 
> Associated Kinks: Femdom. Gentle femdom. Delicious Flat Chest. Mutual Masturbation. Dry-humping. Paizuri/Tit-fucking. First Time. Oral Sex (male and female). Belly Expansion. Cock Milking. Aftercare.

Arlo’s sight clears up and the first thing he notices is that the plant girl is naked.

Looking at the strange girl, it’s easy to see that she’s not human. Her skin is a dead giveaway. It’s green like grass and is far smoother than it should be. He feels her hands and fingers on his chest. There’s not a wrinkle or a palm’s fleshy pad on them. They feel soft in a different way. Like moss growing on a river rock.

The plant girl’s hair drapes over her shoulders.

Just like her hands, it’s textured oddly. Instead of strands, her hair is like a daffodil’s petals. Sun-yellow. Her bangs crown her green cheeks while her back is pinned up in a ponytail. He glances further up. There’s a large pink bud sitting on her head. Arlo would have guessed it was a decoration if it didn’t move and breathe like a second mouth. The flower bud moves independently of the girl. Swaying.

“I’m glad you’re alright.”

Her mouth moves but the sound isn’t coming from there. It’s the bud and the voice echoes through her body.

“Thanks?” Arlo responds. “And what happened to the pollen phantom? She was-”

The bud turns blue and pops open, flustered

“We were her,” it or she stutters. “I was we. She was we.” she drops her head into her hands. “It’s so hard to explain. When I say we, I mean WE. The other pollen phantoms and our true body, Spore. We were many and everything and all. But when you died, we didn’t care. We were capturing humans for our master. But I cared. I tasted your breath. I knew your touch. I wanted you back.”

Overhead, he sees her status bar. It looks kinda glitched out. Did something happen after he died? 

> [V?ll?g?r] Phantom Alraune
> 
> [LVL]: 1
> 
> [HP]: Undefined
> 
> [MP]: Undefined
> 
> [Current Status]: Normal 
> 
> [EXP to next Level]: 100

*Monster Note: Unusual to be found outside of monster-controlled areas, this alraune is a [V?ll?g?r]. Unlike their human counterparts, monster villagers are vicious alone and weak in a pack. Emotional states can be heightened in groups so monsters that herd together tend to fear death much higher than your average human prey. In general, monsters have a natural tendency to be untrusting of fellow monsters when facing a enemy that threatens all of them.

To ensure their survival, backstabbing and murder is to be expected.

The status bar moves to another screen, showing her stats and skills.

> [V?ll?g?r] Phantom Alraune -Continued-
> 
> [Base Stats]
> 
> [ATK]: 20
> 
> [MAU ATK]: 40
> 
> [DEF]: 10
> 
> [MAU DEF]: 60

The plant girl lifts her head.

> [V?ll?g?r] Phantom Alraune -Continued II-
> 
> [Attacks and Special Moves]
> 
> [Nature's Tear]: Restores 100hp
> 
> [Petal Parade]: Slices the foe with vicious petals. (Aero skill)
> 
> [Vine Vice]: Strangles the foe with vines. (Earth skill)
> 
> [Alraune's Kiss]: Poisons the foe with a random effect. 
> 
> [Phantom Fool]: Transforming technique. Can shift between solid and gas forms. Nullifies any stat debuff when used.

Why is he seeing this?

Arlo's pretty sure that only fellow party members could see deeper information about a person's base stats and attack moves. And isn't she supposed to be level 53? All of her special moves are level one and her base stats are looking very low. There's another screen but he avoids it. The plant girl is talking. Maybe he'll get some information straight for her?

“So I think I made it happen. We were we. We had always been we. But I. I! We divided into I. I am. I am I. I am Alraune. Or is it... that I am an alraune named Alraune. It’s really, really confusing, I know, but I’m still adjusting. It’s strange being alone here. Everywhere. Before I was just Pollen Phantom Alraune D. The same as my sisters, A and B and C.”

Alraune taps her flower bud.

“Alright.” he says, gently. “So what do you plan to do now?”

As Arlo asks this, he’s trying to avert his eyes. The pollen phantom might have been woman shaped earlier but it was as if she was wearing a skin-tight leather suit. This alraune on him is… well...

She’s naked. And unfortunately, she’s also anatomy correct.

Alraune is on his waist. Legs cocked open. Her thighs and ass press against his lower half, the rest of her hips and legs a mass of writhing roots. Exposed, he sees her parted pussy lips. Pink like a woman’s. Between them, a glossy sap-like fluid ooze into the fabric of his tunic. The warmth of it trickles down his hipbone and onto the floor. It smells too sweet. Fragrant and rich.

Her breasts are much smaller. Flatter.

A cord of ivy is woven around her delicate mounds. Pinkish nipples peaking through despite the ivy across them. She’s shapely too. Full around her hips and ass while the rest of her rail-thin, reed-like. There’s a scent waffling from her form. Spring-like. Vibrant and fresh. It’s relaxing and distracting.

“Your eyes got so intense all of the sudden.” Alraune says, grinding her hips against him.

Arlo groans. If she keeps doing that, he’ll-

“It’s the roots, right? I had them tame right before you woke up.” Alraune closes her eyes. Her roots twist around each other and form into two pairs of human-like legs. It’s almost right except Alraune apparently didn’t understand why humans needed toes. “Is that better?”

“Can you get off me?”

She tilts her head.

“Why? I like it here.”

Alraune sits upright on him, her hips spreading even further.

Arlo’s cock jumps at the sight of her pussy even more exposed.

She’s so wet. Her pink folds are drenched, heavy droplets of sap wetting up her inner thighs. Her clit stand out, hard and stiff. He can see it swell as Alraune moves. He can’t help himself. His slacks are so tight. His mouth so dry.

He wants to know what she tastes like.

Could it be like honey, sticky and sweet? Or could it be sweeter, jam freshly made.

His hips push upward before he can stop himself. Through his boxers and slacks, Arlo can feel the plump curve of her fertile rump. How her ass bounces from his thrust. Arlo’s hands find themselves griping her thick hips, cupping her plant flesh before he reaches her fat cheeks. He pulls them apart.

“Human,” she moans, pushing her hips into his hands. “Humans and their love for dark and naughty places.”

“Monster,” he replies, cheeky. “Monsters and their love of living in dark and naughty places.”

“Alraune.”

“Arlo.”

Alraune meets his hands and guides them away. She sits firmer on him, pushing down with her hips.

“You’re sprouting something for me, Arlo. I wanna make it grow nice and big for you. It’s the least I can do. Alraunes are shepherds of the forest for a reason, human! Let me help you.”

What is she talkin-

Alraune rubs her ass against his clothed cock. He can feel it rise for her, tenting through his slacks. Pushing back and forth, her pussy drizzles more of that sap. Her grind becomes slower and slicker as she rubs herself against him. He bites his lip, blushing. Why isn’t he saying anything? Why isn’t he pushing her off. Even if she looks like a girl, she’s still a monster.

“Interesting! It’s growing really fast.” she praises. “Physical touch seems to be the right way to go.”

“I-” Arlo starts.

‘I don’t want this’, isn’t what he’s trying to say.

“I-” Arlo tries again.

‘I don’t think this is a good idea,’ isn’t something he wants to mention.

Arlo looks over her again.

She’s so cute.

Alraune is blushing as hard as he is. Her cheeks growing blue and her breath ragged as she grinds. The ivy across her breasts is drooping, hanging closer to her taut and flat belly. Alraune’s small breasts are closer than they were before. Bud-like nipples waiting for be sucked and licked.

It’s weird how he’s following her lead. How good it feels to let her take control.

Maybe things would be different if he flipped the two of them over. It’s obvious she likes him. Would let him touch her and pull her legs apart. The alraune trapped under his stronger and heavier body. Unable to resist him as he fucks her into the ground. But she’s so much more attractive like this. A monster over her prey. It feels so good to just give in. To moan and spread for her. He wants-

No!

He can’t be rationalizing this! She’s a monster. A real life human-eating monster!

Alraune rolls her hips, lifting and dropping herself over his bulge. The sticky sap is almost everywhere now. What little of it touches his skin sends his flesh on fire. He’s hot, desperate. His whole body twitches and throbs. The view of the outside world is beginning to blur. He can’t make out anything else but her doing her best. Alraune riding him into orgasm. He’s becoming her toy. A living dildo.

“Ah, it moved. That thing between your legs moved, Arlo. Will you move it for me again?”

Her words… They seep into his skull even though he knows she probably didn’t mean to issue an order to him. And yet… It feels good to have them. He wants to please her, satisfy her, breed her into submission. Arlo obeys. He cants his hips upwards, driving them into hers. His cock is fully hard. The thickness of it an outline in his slacks. White pre-cum staining the front. Alraune glance down, her skin more sensitive to changes in her environment than his. Her skin absorbs his cum.

“Nectar,” she says, blushing even harder. “You’re making nectar for me, Arlo! It’s so delicious.”

“It’s just cum.”

Alraune smiles. “It’s more like yum,” she says, smacking her lips. “I want more. Can I?”

“Sure?”

Alraune pushes his tunic up and her legs fall into roots once more. The roots wrap themselves around his slacks and boxers, pulls them down. His wet cock pushes up, free. It salutes the green girl and weeps a dribble of white cream. She turns around and moons him by accident, her ass and pussy right in front of him. Her warmth and scent intoxicating him. He can feel her breath on his cockhead, her lips hovering right over the runny slit.

“Mmmh, looks just like a mushroom. I wonder if it will have the same taste as well.”

Alraune licks the crown of his cock, lapping all the spilled cum. His hips buck up and she holds him down. “W-wait,” she says, breathless. She licks downward, lips brushing against his length. Arlo groans. His lungs hurt. The pleasure and the swell of his cock, it’s almost too much. Alraune keeps on lapping, her sap-drool coating his shaft. The plant fluid sinking in, causing the skin to tighten and fatten up.

She reaches his balls and kisses them, her nose brushing against the light coating of hair.

“I wonder what these are. Fruit sacks? If I squeeze them, will something shoot out your pretty stem?”

With her hands, she fondles Arlo’s balls. Stroking them and running the tips of her nail-less fingers over them. They grow fatter and churn, his seed pooling inside the meaty orbs. Alraune moves her mouth over his cock once more. She drools on it. Her sap tingling and hot. Arlo’s hips buck again and this time, she lets him. He pushes up and into her waiting mouth, Alraune making an erotic “Oof!”

Arlo groans. The heat of her mouth and the feel of her around his cock. He groans again.

Alraune’s ass wiggles in his face. Her fertile hips spread and her pussy soaked and teasing. He moves to rest on his elbows and buries himself between her cheeks. They’re so plump and firm. He licks her pussy, slurping up her sweet essence. It’s more delicious than he thinks. The taste of it is indescribable. His tongue wanders her pink folds, exploring and caressing all it could reach. Alraune shudders around him, her pussy shamelessly getting wetter and wetter. He pulls back and kisses her inner thighs.

The skin his lips meet blush that curious blue, a sharp contrast to the green of the rest of her.

Arlo lavishes her backside. Kissing and licking and biting her cheeks and hips. He leaves a trail of bright blue bite marks across her twin cheeks. Alraune pushes her thighs back, trying to direct him back to her pussy.

Alraune outright smothers him.

Her roots forcing his lower half to bend as she lifted herself to sit on his face.

His legs dangle over her shoulders, feet kicking in air.

Alraune bobs her head back and forth, drinking him down. Arlo is squished under her sweet ass and drooling pussy. Her sweet juices dribble all over his face, the heat and sap causing him to sweat and twitch. Every breath he takes, he gets more of her inside. He licks her clit, sucking on the pink bud. He flicks his tongue back and forth, Alraune grinding harder and harder on him. Her cheeks pillowing his face.

Arlo’s tongue move to her entrance and he dips inside, tasting an even more sugary fluid.

Alraune cries out, her hips trembling. The plant girl’s mouth squeezes around his cock, entrapping it in a vice-like grip. He shouts, trying to pull his hips and length out. She’ll crush him! Alraune’s roots slap his hanging balls. Striking against his nutsac until they sting, the seed inside them close to erupting out of him. She gets tighter and tighter around him. Almost as if she’s trying to suck his soul right out his cock.

He can’t hold on-

Arlo cums, his cock jerking off and squirting down a hot load of seed. His cum fills up her mouth and explodes out the sides, white cum running down her chest and breasts. Alraune pulls away and lets his still cumming cock rain on her. Cum spewing onto her face and hair. The white seed doesn’t last long. Her body absorbs it and turns even shinier as a result.

“Yummy! Thanks for the drink, Arlo!” she giggles. “Are you liking yours?”

“Mmmph!”

Arlo couldn’t even understand himself with all the pussy in his mouth. He drives into her, licking at her inner walls. Gulping down her sap and sweetness with gusto. “Arlo...” The more he drinks, the more thirsty he gets. Alraune’s making so much and yet he needed more and more. His belly is begging to grow full, pudgy as he’s filled. Weird. Was she filling him up on purpose?

“Arlo, you’re such a good human. Such a good man. Arlo, go deeper. Seed me. Fill me up with your dew.”

That praise again.

He can’t stand it. Arlo shivers, wanting to hear it again and again.

The alraune moans for him, clinging to his folded half and rubbing her face into his softening cock.

The idea of her face near his shaft is almost enough to make him get it up again. Or maybe that’s the sap. His cock is rising again, fattening up with blood and vigor. Alraune takes his cock into her breasts and drives it back and forth. The sensation of her slight mounds and those nipples of hers, it drives him wild. His feet arch and his cock oozes, pre-cum coming out even fiercer than before. Wait-

He’s never made so much cum in his whole life!

Is it the sap doing this, increasing his seed load?

“You’re doing so well, Arlo. Take me all in. Please~”

The cum rains down, painting Alraune in streaks of creamy white. The smell of himself takes to the air. Male musk and human scent rising and mixing with her feminine flowery aroma. The roots around his balls wrap around them, twining themselves around his base and milking him for more.

“Make more for me, Arlo. I need more. I want more.”

Before he felt like a living dildo but now he’s little more than a cum machine.

“Arlo, release for me. Please. Give your nectar to me. Give it all to me.”

The words themselves seemingly wrap around his cock, ushering him on. An invisible hand directing him not to fail her. Arlo’s hips thrust without reason or rhyme. He pushes himself against Alraune’s slender body. It’s all he needs. The way his cock simply hurts, swollen, squirting… he probably could have came from just her words alone. As it stands, his orgasm blurs and dizzies. A half-thought that is swept away under the need to please her.

Arlo cums again but his breath does not ease nor his frantic thrust.

His body curls against hers, desperately trying to reach back inside her once more. Her mouth. Her pussy. It doesn’t matter. He wants her inside him. He wants to be inside her. His thoughts are strange, scattered. His voice stranger, pleading. He can hardly recognize himself. The voice that is rising in his potion shop, moaning and light and flighty.

The voice doesn’t sound girly, Arlo thinks.

Just…. Just…

He’s making sounds he thought he never could. Squirming gasps. Begging groans. It’s all too-

The pleasure steamrolls over his arriving afterglow. His thoughts are leaving him. His sensitivity is sky-rocketing. He mindlessly begins to pleasure her. Licking and sucking swallowing down the juice that runs down from the sweetest place. Alraune's hips are beginning to leave him. She sharply turns as the pleasure begins to overtake her, he can tell. He chases them. Pushing his wet face between his folds and slurping her down. Not yet. Please, not yet. She can't leave him without him hearing her cries of want and need. Arlo's tongue returns to her clit and curls around it. He tugs lightly. Alraune's thighs kick and shudder, she becoming as much a toy for him as he is for her. This back-and-forth is delirious, spell-binding. He can feel her mouth move back onto his cock, lapping up his endless seed. He screams into her, the stimulation more than he can handle.

“You’re doing so well, Arlo. You can take more, can’t you? Look how big you’re getting for me.”

Alraune grinds and grinds.

“More.” she commands, her voice high and beautiful and hers. He can’t disappoint her. “More!”

His belly is getting bigger, fuller.

Her inner walls clench around his tongue and she cums, spraying him with her sap. She cries out. Her climax sweeps through her, causing even the bud on her head to spew sap everywhere. Her body arches, shivers rake across her lewd cum-covered form. Alraune gently lowers his body to the ground. Her hands run over his swollen cock and his inner thighs. He can feel her eyes taking him in.

She’s panting, swaying. Her voice cracks and she falls into wheezing, pollen-spreading gasps.

Alraune pushes herself off his face and doesn’t make it far. She slips, her vines still and refusing to turn into legs for her to walk. She falls forward and she’s on display for him yet again. Her well-fucked pussy is still trickling sweetness, making a clear puddle on the floor. Her ass wags at him. Tempting him to crawl over.

Arlo moves onto his hands and knees, moving towards her.

Overhead, his status bar changes and reveals his current state.

> [Villager]: Arlo Brey
> 
> [HP]: 1000/100 (due to [Aroused] state. +100/sec)
> 
> [MP]: 1000/100 (due to [Intoxicated] state. +100/sec)
> 
> [Current Status]:
> 
> -Intoxicated (Alraune nectar can cause various stat debuffs such as [Aroused] and [Intoxicated] to human victims)
> 
> -Aroused (Alraune nectar can cause various stat debuffs such as [Intoxicated] and [Aroused] to human victims)
> 
> -Thralled (Alraune nectar consumed to near fatal amounts can lead to human victims to becoming slaves to the Alraune and those with access to the poison.)

Alraune catches her breath.

“I didn’t expect it to be so intense the first time,” she murmurs, “Did you?”

Her roots shoot out, coiling and wrapping around him. She pulls him into her soft chest and it’s like this he notices that she’s a head or two shorter than him. Vines or not vines, she’s an average-sized girl if a little on the short and skinny side. Hips not factoring in.

“No,” he says after a while. Dazed. “It was my first time too.”

And despite her being the short one, Alraune makes him the little spoon.

She wraps them together.

Alraune curls around his exhausted form. Her body faintly warm and the calming scent of her aiding his lazy drift back into slumber land. Her petal-like bangs brush against his forehead. Her breath, slow and slight, meets the back of his neck. It’s comforting. Strange. His eyes fall halfway and stares at the floor for a while. Fending off sleep as his afterglow finally spills over him.

The aches of his body fade into dull throbs and phantom pleasure.

Her smaller roots rest against his lower legs. The thinner tips tickling his calf. Another vine outright strokes his hip and waist. It’s strange. He thinks, as a man, he should be doing this for her, touching and holder her, but he can’t bring himself to switch places. It’s nice. Here between her arms, under her and being held just like this.

Arlo’s eyes are slowly beginning to close completely until he feels a sensation on his lips.

He opens them.

There’s a vine. It strokes his bottom lip. In a weird way, he thinks it’s trying to kiss him.

“Alraune?”

Her hands tighten around him.

“I wanna go deeper inside you, Arlo. Just like before.”

When she was a pollen phantom?

“Why?”

Alraune snuggles in between his shoulder blades.

“When we became I, it is because I wanted to be we to you. If only for a moment. That’s how interesting and alluring you are, Arlo. I knew I had to have you for myself and that you’d have me.” her vines moves to grab his chin, stoking his neck. “I know it’s not the same with humans. You are all separate beings with separate lives. But I wanted to learn what made you touch me. I wanted it so bad that I killed you.”

Huh?

What is he suppose to say to that?

“You’re not going to turn into pollen and suffocate me again, are you? I’m pretty sure if you killed me like that a second time, I won’t be able to come back.”

Alraune shakes her head.

“No! Nothing like that… I wanna mate like we alraune do. Push you to the ground and crawl inside your every hole, fill every part of you with me. That’s why I couldn’t help but be so wet earlier. I wanted to make you blossom. Grow so big and drunk off the taste of me. And look at you.” she pats his belly. “You took me in so well. You didn’t complain or anything.”

“I-I liked it,” he says, awkwardly.

“Most humans can’t survive even this part. You all perish after you have too much nectar to drink.” Well, isn’t that terrifying to hear? “Or turn into little rotten mandrakes under our thrall. You’re so different, Arlo. You make me want to care and clutch you. Maybe it’s because you’re a pervert.”

Arlo stiffens. “I was not a pervert. I was suffering from oxygen depreciation.”

“Most humans would have fought in that situation.” she pokes him with a finger. “You chose to grope instead. Can you see what I see?” Alraune’s hand crosses his shoulders and grabs his breast. “A imp of a human with a desire for fondling that defies even death!” her fingers roll over his nipple.

Arlo’s breath speeds up. Suddenly, he wants her all over again.

“You’re making me sound bad,” he whines. “It wasn’t like that. Kinda. It was a heat of a moment thing. You touched me too. You didn’t have to.”

“I was only following your lead.”

“And I was only following yours!”

Alraune laughs, “But our bodies knew what we wanted. I like that. I like you. Is that okay?”

Arlo blushes.

“Of course, that’s okay. I like you too. For whatever that means in this situation." he blurts out, blushing even harder. Think! Think of something witty to say. "And you know if all of this means I’m a monster pervert... Doesn’t that make you a human molester?” Wait... That didn't sound very smart.

Alraune pinches his nipple. He yelps and tries to squirm away. Her roots lock him in place.

“O-of course not!”

She weakly punches his shoulder.

“I’m just a human lover and you, my human, are my monster lover. I’ll do my very best to ravish you.”

Arlo lays against her chest, feeling her body breathe. He doesn't feel a heartbeat. That's okay. He has a heart big enough for the both of them.

"Sleep with me, okay?"

The roots rise and stretch over them like a canopy. They fan out and expand into a leafy shell.

Lust and want wars within him but Arlo knows it's him and not the nectar in his system when he says yes.

Always.

"Yes." 

Dead men don't lie.


	4. Round Two: Pretty Phantom Alraune?! (FEMDOM and TENTACLES)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> P-Penetrate?!
> 
> What did she mean by 'penetrate'?! There's nothing on him to 'penetrate'!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the nasty hardcore fucks who want up the bum, eh? 
> 
> This chapter contains sex. Loads of it.
> 
> Associated Kinks: Femdom. Gentle femdom. Light bondage. Absolute Submission. Tentacle-Play. Tentacle Sex. Consentacles. Orgasm Denial/Delay. Cock-Milking. Cock Expansion/Engorgement. Rough Sex. Fondling and Groping. Predator/Prey elements.

Arlo comes to in his ordinary bed, his ordinary room. It’s all the same. A desk. A chair. His stack of papers. And the very bed he’s laying on, the sheet riding low on his spread hips. Glancing down, he’s the same as ever. No bulging belly. No nectar staining his clothes and body. The stench of fresh sex that should be clinging to him isn’t there either. In fact, there little evidence to suggest it ever was there.

He feels…

Arlo pulls his legs to him. He must make a silly sight, resting his head on his knees.

…not tired. Not aching from Alraune’s antics with his body.

It’s almost as if that everything that happened before was just a strange fever dream.

His bedroom sheets sling low across his jutting hips and pale thighs. He’s shirtless. Wearing nothing but his black boxers. The middle of them discolored from the pre-cum and his cock straining against the thin fabric. The memory of her, Alraune. It swirls into his head and invades his mind. She seems so real, so reachable. The taste of her. The feel of her body on top of his. Arlo shakes his head. He’s deluding himself. There’s no way in hell that he somehow managed to have sex with a monster girl.

His cock says otherwise. It rises, swelling. A firm bulge growing between his legs.

This is so embarrassing.

He wasn’t some loser that couldn’t just get off from the pleasure of jerking without an imaginary gal. He didn’t need a name. He didn’t need a face. Sex is... just sex. Sensations. Flesh touching flesh until he can’t think but groan in pleasure. But he wants to. He wants to put his hand around his dick and imagine he’s plunging inside of her. Her hands resting on his shoulders. Her moans in the air. His name on her lips.

Arlo pushes his legs out and tries to sit up.

Keyword: tries.

The headboard creaks when he moves his arms. Wrists bound.

He hadn’t realized it but he’s been tied to the headboard. A green ribbon looping around his wrists to a bar. When did he do ‘that’ to himself? Arlo yanks his wrists forward. The headboard groans but refuses to budge. He tries again, bringing his shoulders into the mix. They collide. The headboard doesn’t give.

His sheets fall further down his thighs and Arlo couldn’t help but notice how this looks.

He’s trapped. Vulnerable.

His legs wide. The bulge of his cock at full mast. His boxers hanging low on his hips.

“Alraune? Are you here?”

He glances up and stares, when did she- Vines and roots are weaving across his bedroom’s ceiling. Green cords occupying most of the dark space and light fixture, vines weaving even into the cracks, forcing themselves further in. The room groans from the invasion, the dust risen from the old wood.

A single hanging vine whirls its way down from the others.

The vine feathers across his face. Its tip ending in a narrow bud, petals pulled tightly together. It caresses one cheek, two, and then it goes down his chest. The petals open and pollen spills out, sprinkling his torso in gold-like dust. It tickles. The pollen sits on his skin and he renews his struggles.

Arlo doesn’t know what’s going on but this seems like step one in the human eating process. Season the meat.

The vine flicks itself across his waist and then down to his hips, sweeping over the bit of flesh bared between his boxers and the sheets. Spirits, just the hint of a touch coming its way and his cock can’t stand it. It stands even harder, balls aching for some direct stimulation. The vine rubs itself against his inner thighs, his weak flesh. The sensation of it being touched and teased. He struggles even more. Flailing. Squirming. The ribbon around his wrists never moves. The softness of the restraint reminding him of who he has to blame for this.

Arlo turns his head. His mouth refuses to be still. It’s falling open and he’s breathing hard. Already, he's worked up.

The vine uses its bud. Peels back its petals to stroke his skin. They’re soft. Feather-like. They work together and pinches his skin gently. He gasps. They swoop across the valley of reddening flesh and flexing knees, brushing across with care and intent. Arlo scoots his hips further, aiming his middle in their flight path. The vine merely circles his boxers and cock. It drags itself along them, digging deep and pulling the boxer’s fabric as it goes.

“A-Alraune!”

The vine tiptoes to his boxer’s waistband and drapes its petals over it, tugging down the pair inch by inch. It’s so slow that Arlo both sweats and shivers. The heat of knowing he’ll be exposed for Alraune’s pleasure and the chill of doing so naked in bed. The boxers are pulled over his cock and his member springs free. It’s a shameless thing. Pink and thick, cum pearling on the tip. It twitches, hard.

Arlo thinks the vine will busy itself with his exposed shaft but it doesn’t.

It continues on its way. His boxers dragged away from his blushing legs and flexed feet. At the end, the vine throws his boxers away into the dark. He thinks he should hear a thump from the floor but instead he’s hears a flop. He glances sideways. The room is dark. The light is off.

All Arlo has to see is with the faint streetlight under the wintry window. Dim starlight.

He squints.

His floor is messy. It comes from more or less having his own space in the shop but it’s messier than usual. He thinks he sees sheets. More sheets. Comforters. Blankets. Thicker covers. They’re from the storage room, right? For the few occasions he and Uncle Visse sell camping sets for adventurers looking to hunt in Elmgrass Grove.

Why was it here? Did Alraune take it on purpose? What need could she have for-

The vine trails itself up his leg.

Arlo’s rambling thoughts go to the wayside. His heartbeat quickens. The vine catches his attention, his clumsy scattered thoughts. He tries to re-imagine it as a hand or an arm but he can’t banish the image or feelings it invokes in him as it is: A vine. A limb of a monster. A thing that prey upon mortal men like him.

Sweat breaks out across his body but it isn’t the sort formed by fear.

He’s longing for it like an animal in heat. As it is, unchanged: A vine. An interesting part of Alraune.

When the plant girl was woman-shaped, Arlo thinks he was attracted to her feminine shape. He on the floor of his ruined shop keeping his eyes on the parts of her that looked human. Her face. Her breasts. Her hips. But when he runs his mind over what happened earlier… Arlo remembers the touch of her inhuman hands. Nail-less fingers. Feet without toes. Legs that came apart whenever Alraune is distracted.

This attraction he feels… is it only a result of the [Aroused] state her nectar gave him?

Or is it something else?

He hasn’t been repelled by the green of her skin. The petals that make up her hair. The feel of her skin. And the way she looks at him, speaks to him, touches him. This has to be just infatuation. They didn’t know each other. Not really. He wonders it if is his submission to her and death that attracts her. The way he reaches for her earlier in the night and then how now he responds to her touch of his body.

Then those stranger moments of her playing with his nipples and entrapping him around her breasts.

The vine brushes against his exposed skin, dusting it in more pollen. Then it wraps itself around his shaft. Winding around his cock in three lazy loops. The vine’s mass is thickening, encasing his member with its wider form. The bud weaves itself out of the vining pile and concerns itself with his cockhead. The petals pull back and they stroke it like fingers, swiping back and forth his pre-cum and foreskin. Arlo’s hips buck. He pushes into the bud, panting and moaning. His ankles dig deeper into the mattress.

The vine milks him, coiling around his shaft and dragging itself up and down. Arlo sighs into pleasure.

“Arlo...”

In the darkness of the ceiling, he makes out a pair of red eyes. A faint outline of a woman suspended over him.

“Arlo...” she says his name again.

What blood he can spare rushes to his face. Alraune! She’s over him, watching as he suffers and submits to her. He awkwardly cocks his legs closed. But why- He shouldn’t feel so flustered knowing she is in the room. Her eyes raking over his prone and bound body. Shame washes over him. Lust rises over him. He tries to control his breathing. To stop making those pathetic sounds.

His breath hitching and the heat of his skin.

Arlo feels red all over. He pants, mouth lolling as the vine works him.

He wants her. He want this.

“Alraune,” he says.

“Alraune,” he begs.

His words aren’t making any sense. His mind isn’t making any sense.

There’s a word waiting on the tip of his tongue. It’s a word he never thinks he’d ever say in bed. With a girl, with a boy, with anyone really! If he says it… If he moans it… He knows of the words that will follow. The shameful ones that- What would those words say about him? Weren’t humans suppose to be afraid of monsters? To fight them to slay them. What was this between them? Lust and curiosity?

What about his manly pride?

Arlo pants even louder.

Fuck it! It’s a show of pride that he could even say what is on his mind!

“Please,” he says, whispering it. “Please can you fuck me?”

If his ears aren’t pink, they surely are now.

“Hmmm,” Alraune asks, “I didn’t quite hear that. Could you say it louder?”

Arlo blanches. Really?! Really, did he have to? It takes so much out of him.

“Please, can you fuck me!”

“I don’t think all my vines heard that,” she coos, “One more time for me as loud as you can do it.”

“Please fuck me!”

“I don’t mind pleasing my human,” Alraune giggles lightly. Her voice sounding like the most natural thing in the world. Leaves rattling in the wind. “Arlo, you look so delicious caught in my vines.”

Alraune lowers herself down, her roots and vines roaming everywhere. She hovers briefly over him before she drops, landing on his middle with a “Oof”. Her vines strike out, covering and claiming every inch of him. They scramble up his chest and run over his arms, worming their way over and under him. Alraune tilts her head. Her eyes eating him. She’s drinking up the sight. The reflection him in her red eyes.

She drags a nail-less finger across his middle. Blood follows under the skin, his body growing pink.

“Arlo, do you know how amazing you are? Look. You’re changing into your spring colors in the middle of winter! So brazen of you. The pinker you get, the more I want to take your virgin seed. Would you like that? Me taking your seed inside. I’ll use it well. Oh look! You’re even pinkier.”

Alraune leans over and her face nuzzles his chest.

Her tongue darts out. It’s blue and bright. She uses it, swiping against his budding nipples. His nubs stiffening and hardening for her. Alraune licks harder and brings her lips to close around one. She sucks. His hips jerk. The bed creaks. The noises he’s making. He can’t stand them. In her mouth, Alraune nips lightly with her fangs. She could tear into him at any time but instead she’s loving him.

Kissing and caressing and lapping up the pollen.

When she pulls back, her lips are glossy and glittery. She kisses his neck. Nipping and biting and breathing against the pulsing vein. Her tongue messily licks against it.

“Arlo, you’re so noisy,” she purrs, “Never still. How can you stand it? Your heart is going thump, thump, thump. Your blood is going rush, rush, rush.” she drags her sharp teeth over his vein. “I want you to get even louder? Make your heart faster! Make your lungs pop! Would you like that?”

“I don’t mind the heart thing but I need my lungs.”

Alraune’s lips move up to his chin. She smooches. It’s a gentle kiss. Sticky with sap and feelings and fools.

“I want you,” he babbles.

The way he’s saying it, it might as been a marriage proposal.

Alraune stops and leans over him. She’s smiling like she’s been let in on a great big secret.

“I want you too.”

It’s getting hard to breathe normally. His nerves are alive, electrified with lust.

“Can I have some bloom dew, human?”

Bloom dew?

She leans over his face and presses down, kissing him. Their lips meet, soft and sweet. Alraune pushes further into his mouth and he lets her. Tongues meeting and parting. He drools, pollen pouring in. Alraune drinks it up, moaning. She pulls back.

“It wouldn’t be fair if I didn’t let you have some of my own.”

The bud on her head stretches and grows, moving to brush over his lips.

Curious, he gives it an experimental licks.

Alraune gaps, “Human, you naughty spore! You can’t just lick so… human-ly! It’s delicate and-” The bud peels back to reveal a dew-covered flower. “Arlo! Arlo wait!” Green drops drips onto his face and cheeks. He continues to lick it, his pink tongue swiping across the quivering petals. He pushes himself into the flower’s center and darts his tongue in. Alraune claws her hands into his shoulders. She moans.

Her ponytail falls out and her petal-like hair coils and lifts, becoming like a golden circlet.

Alraune shudders against him, her thighs closing around his form. Her nectar gushes from between her legs. Arlo wraps his tongue around the flower’s inner stem. He gives it a light tug. Alraune writhes for him. Her hips buck forward and the vine around his cock brings itself to rub against her curvy ass. She pushes back, sliding the shaft back and forth between her cheeks.

He groans, body boiling in need.

Arlo turns his head to the side. He thinks he’s should’ve cummed by now. His cock feels so swollen and heavy. Thick and fat. His balls rub against the sheet under him, rounder and fuller. The vine squeezes him harder and his orgasm falls away. His flesh, it sting. It feels like he’s being stretched.

The vine is lathering something onto his shaft, it’s seeping through the green root.

Arlo cants his hips up and down, chasing the strange sensation. The stinging pain eases every time he bounces. The vine, for the first time, helps him along. It pulls and pushes the looser foreskin around his cockhead. It’s like it’s jerking him off in its unyielding grip. The vine tugs him up and down. It’s moving faster than he can keep up. Cum dribbles from his slit, add more slickness to its aggressive pounding of his cock.

The vine tugs harder now and his shaft moves with it, growing longer.

His cock stretches, the girth and length spreading out. Arlo clenches his eyes, feet wheeling out from the pleasure-laden pain overloading of expanding nerves and raw fresh skin. His balls aren’t spared. They balloon out under him, two nuts now the size of apples. They drag against him, harder and heafty. His shaft salutes even higher, the curve of his cock resting against the top of Alraune’s ass. Cum streaming down the dips of her rump and splatter onto their bodies.

Alraune pushes back and fondles with her ass his new cock.

“Like my gardening, Arlo? Since I was tending to it, I thought I’d make it even bigger too.”

The vine returns to its former state of lazily tending to his shaft, three loops around him. But the first loop around the base of his cock tightens. Arlo wiggles his hips, trying to knock it off. The loop is so tight, he can feel it press into the space of his shaft and balls. Pushing out what cum could escape its near-agonizing grip while letting the pressure build in his enlarged balls. Another set of vines rub against his nutsac. With their tips, they wrap around the orbs and milk it, forcing more his cum to push into the cock vine’s first loop.

“I wanna go even deeper inside you,” Alraune sings, “Is that okay?”

Arlo weakly nods though he thinks that’s there isn’t much for her to go besides his mouth and cock.

“Are you sure?”

She pulls back her flower bud from his mouth.

“Y-Yeah. Even when you were just pollen, feeling you inside me felt nice.”

Or maybe that’s just because of the trance he fell in when her breasts were smothering him to death.

She looks at him, her face blushing. “Even thought I killed you?”

“Hey, I wouldn’t say that it wasn’t a nice way to die. Just… don’t kill me this time.”

Alraune sways on him, holding her arms together.

“I won’t this time, okay~ I’ve already been inside of you so I think I have a good mental picture of where I avoid to keep your fleshy insides intact. Oh, Arlo. Arlo! Knowing that you want me to penetrate you makes me so wet! I haven’t made so much nectar before. There’s too much, too much but I keep making more and more. I want it all to go inside you. I want to go all inside you, Arlo.”

P-Penetrate?!

What did she mean by 'penetrate'?! There's nothing on him to 'penetrate'!

“Alraune, when you say ‘penetrate’ you mean-”

“Don’t worry, Arlo. I’ll take it nice and slow. I wanna seed you just right.”

More vines spill down. The first few scrape against his trembling thighs, pushing themselves against his skin and sweat. The others busy themselves with his legs and angles, weaving around his joints and them spreading even further apart. Cool air sweeps across his displayed bottom and flustered skin.

Arlo bites the inside of his mouth. He squirms even more.

A pair of thicker vines approaches his backside, rubbing across his bum and cheeks.

They push his cheeks apart and grind against his balls. Their tips are budded the same as the vine around his cock but theirs are different. They squirt. The fatter vines dribble and spew a looser sap across his backside. The smell of it isn’t as sweet as Alraune’s nectar. It’s much more pungent and nature-like. The smell of pine trees in the morning or the woodsy smell of fresh logs on an open flame.

The vines around his knees and legs tug Arlo’s body up for the ones around his ass.

The fatter vines rub and lather their plant fluid around his asshole, massaging the flesh there. He clenches on instinct. Why were they interested in that place? There’s nothing there. It’s not like a woman’s privates! But as they touch him, he feels himself getting looser. Their buds push into his hole and squirt inside, filling him with that fluid. It’s trickling inside. Warm and wet. A liquid heat warming his insides.

Arlo pushes his ass forward. He can’t believe he's doing this, wanting this. Why does this feel so, so good?

They push even more into him. His insides stretch, the goo they shot in softening the pain of their intrusion but only slightly. His inner walls part. He can feel them, the shape of their buds and just their girth, the solidness of their form penetrating the darkest place inside of him.

They rub against ‘something’ that sends his heart racing.

Arlo cries out, breath hitching even higher.

They rub it again.

He’s moaning now. Tears forming around his eyelids. He can’t stand this. The vines tap that spot again and again. He’s seeing stars and space. Arlo’s close to screaming. He can hardly breathe anymore. Every breath in rushing right back out. He’s getting even louder than the people outside.

A hand caress his face. Alraune.

She lifts up his chin and watches. Her eyes unknowable. Her intentions beyond his grasps. Why did he say yes to this? She gazes down on him and holds his face, listening to his choked gasp and desperate breath. He’s trying to keep a straight face but he’s knows he’s near gone. His eyes glazing over. His back arching in want. Again, he’s a living dildo for her. Again, he’s nothing but a cum machine. Is this what got her hot and bothered by him. The fact that she could string him up so easily. His human form defenseless to her monstrous vines.

Alraune kisses his forehead.

“A-Alraune!”

“You look beautiful like this, all in full bloom.”

She kisses his forehead again, wiping the sweat away. Then her forehead rests against his.

Breaths matching. Bodies moving.

The vines pull out and something even thicker goes in. It’s so big. She’s forcing something too big between his virgin cheeks! His ring of muscles spread and gape open, this new vine filling him up with just the bulby tip. The bulby vine slowly pushes into him. He fights it. Trying to push it out or flee, straining against his restraints. The bulby vines stills while he struggles. Letting him sweat and exhaust himself. When his fight dies down and he’s panting again, the bulby vine continues.

Oh, spirits.

“Ahhh...” he cries.

“Oh, Arlo.”

Alraune kisses and kisses while the vine fucks and fucks him. It’s plunging even deeper, forcing his walls to accommodate its girth and size. The green bastard so deep in. He can’t push it out. He can’t stop it from battering his vulnerable walls. And worse of all, he can’t stop moaning. So good. So good! The bulby vine fills him and pulls back halfway before slamming right back in. His body jerks at once.

He’s becoming nothing more than a pair of drooly holes, sap and saliva leaking out of him.

The bulby vine thrusts back and forth, pleasure shooting straight to his core. His cock shoots off, cum spewing even higher. The bulby vine whips across his bundles of nerves. His hips, traitors, drive forward to meet its thrusts. The bulby vine pulls back. Arlo meets forward. The bulby vine pushes forward. Arlo meets it, crashing into the hellish bliss.

“You’re doing so good, Arlo.”

Alraune lifts herself up and hoists herself over his captured cock. Her pussy rubs against his cockhead before she sits, letting him push her walls apart. Arlo screams, cumming again the moment she touches him. His cock spears into her folds, an inch splitting her entrance open. She sinks herself down. Her thighs wiggle as she slides down. Her pussy audibly slurping, gulping his shaft down.

When her thighs meet his waist once more, her face is near lost.

“I-I think I made you too big!” she cries,“I can hardly move with you inside me. Please stop cumming I can hardly think-”

The feel of her pussy pressing against his cock.

“Arlo, I-I-”

Alraune grows bigger, her form absorbing his overflowing cum. Average-sized before, she's two sizes bigger. Her daffodil-yellow hair droops and falls over them like a shroud. Alraune moves over him, leaning. He can feel her shift on the inside. Her inner walls molding around his too-large cock, clenching and squeezing around it. Alraune's eyes glow, glinting. Beast-like and feral. Arlo doesn't see himself in her eyes any longer. They've clouded over. The bloodlust of a monster. Her vines tighten and those on the ceiling whip back and forth, frenzied.

"Alraune?"

She doesn't respond. She tilts her head like an animal might do towards a sound. There's no recognition in her face.

"Alraune?" he tries again, attempting to sit up this time. "Are you-"

She pushes his shoulders firmly back down. His eyes widen at that. The feel of her hands handling him rough...

The plant-beast upon him settles herself on him, forming knees and pulling herself half-way off his shaft. The noise of it. The squelch of their two bodies briefly parting, it rings out in the small space. His cum runs down her thicker thighs. The plant-beast's hands move her lower lips, fingers swiping up the seed dripping down. She scoops it up with her index and brings it to her mouth. Her tongue slides out and she watches it lengthen, a blue fleshy licking up and down her finger. She smacks her hips and regards him.

"Uhhh..."

Looks like he's about to die again tonight.

Damn, he's getting harder. Is he going to suffer from death-boners for the rest of his short life!

The plant-beast looms over him and her tongue forces its way into his mouth. Their tongues meet and she flattens his down, pushing further within. Her blue tongue brushes up against his teeth and tickles the back of his throat, more of it just pouring in. He obediently holds his mouth open, moaning. This is weird. This is really, really weird. Her tongue keeps on striking the roof of his mouth and he can't help it, it shuts. Her squirming limb in his mouth, Arlo starts sucking to placate it. For some reason, it just all feels so good.

Her hips bump into his cock and her vines move it into position.

The plant-beast pushes into his cock, her pussy lips, fatter and puffier, allowing him in. She's so warm. Hot. Her nectar gushes down and rains onto the base of cock and balls. And then the smell of it all over it again. The sweet aroma. Her pussy takes him all in within one thrust. Her large thighs clapping against him as she meets his hips again. The plant-beast begins to move. She rides him, slamming up and down on his bound body. All he can do is take it and cry out, muffled by her invading tongue.

Their flesh clashes, pain and pleasure mounting as they hit each other.

This isn't sex anymore but a marking, a claiming.

The cord across Arlo's wrists fall off from the force of her aggressive thrusts. There's no time to think if it had actually been a ribbon or another one of Alraune's vines. There's no chance to escape either even if he wanted to. The plant-beast is upon him. Her vines lift his lower body up and he's pulled up the headboard, the monster still riding him. Relentless. Unsatisfied. Her tongue falls out of his mouth from the sudden change in their positions and he welcomes the scant air. His lungs rattle. His heart is about to jump out of his chest. He can't take anymore. No more. No more!

The plant-beast cares not for any words from his lips. He speaks, or he tries to, his words are broken labored things, before she smashes their mouths together.

It's not a kiss. It's nothing like the sweet and lovely Alraune he knows.

Her lips are vicious. Her tongue pushing once more to get inside of him, lapping up every drop in his mouth. 

The vine around the base of his cock unfurls and his cock grows once more. He's even larger. Wider. He feels himself extend even more than her, her inner walls choking out more and more cum. Her pussy won't stop. It takes and takes it. Orgasm after orgasm sweeps over him as he hangs in vines, limp like a kitten. The vines pull him further and further up and they're suspended upside down. He clings to her. Her roots fan out, their narrow lengths spreading into leafy layers of a tree's bud. The roots are overlapping, the leaf layers entrapping her and him in a plant prison.

He's seen this before.

Isn't the same trap that took Minra away?

The plant prison closer in, molding to their two bodies. Arlo can feel the filmy leaf glue itself to his back and shoulders, pushing them closer together. His face falls between the plant-beast breasts. The two mounds bounding against him. It's all too appropriate. He hasn't escaped death after all. The plant-beasts thrusts grow slower, her strokes longer. The vines inside his ass pulling out, their stewy sap dripping down his legs. His vision is beginning to blur. His body shaking and shuddering.

Arlo cums.

He shoots off inside of her, ropes of thick white gushing straight into her womb. His body is alight, a boat on a rocky sea, he's a mess of overstimulated nerves and muffled pleas. The plant prison pushes them together even tighter and tears trickle out of his eyes. His breath doesn't ease. His body doesn't still. She wants more him. She must. She must! The plant-beast pulls her tongue out and forces him to look at her. She stares into his eyes. Her hand brushes against his lips. His eyes close and he leans up, seeking hers. 

It's the last thing he remembers.

 

* * *

 

Alraune wakes first, yawning and shaking the breeding bud.

She smacks her lips.

Arlo…

His taste lingers on her receptor. He really was a delicious meal. Just like she thought he’d be.

Alraune blinks, her bud stiffening in question.

Didn’t humans call their receptors a tongue? That pink fleshy thing of theirs. She’s remembers how Arlo’s has been. Soft and wet and so fun to play with. Her ‘tongue’ isn’t like that at all. It’s much longer and blue and capable of sharpening into a needle-like weapon. It’s hollow too.

But she supposes it makes sense.

She has three of them situated in the back of her mouth, waiting to dig into a prey’s weak point. Their legs. Their ankles. Their necks. It really doesn’t matter as long as she gets a direct hit. Breaking through the flesh and shooting her poison into their bloodstream.

The plant girl unfurls the breeding bud and spins downward, Arlo tucked into her side as they both fall.

He curls around her and she cups the back of his head. He’s so strange. She runs her hand over his hair. It crinkles like grass but is soft like fur. The thin strands working together to make a mane of brown messy locks. She’d like to say it reminded her of a rabbit’s fur but his so less denser than theirs. Grip-pable and fun to toy with. She digs deeper with her fingers, rubbing along his scalp. He likes it, his lips parting with a dreamy moan.

Her back meets the mattress and she sits up. Careful not to wake the resting Arlo.

She’s been rougher than she thinks. He reeks of her. His body giving off waves after wave of her unique aroma and pollen mix. It’s absolutely adorable. Most alraunes would never let their partner’s scent linger on them too long. Common sense, really. To smell like another alraune is to smell like food to that alraune.

Much like spiders, they do so like to eat their lovers.

Binding them inside of a breeding bud and dissolving them in green nutritious mulch.

She hadn’t done that to Arlo because he’s wearing her scent so nicely. She hadn’t eaten-eaten Arlo because… there is no need for that. Alraunes come together to breed and of course, someone would have to be eaten to provide for the new variant. It isn’t as bad as a mammal might think. Those eaten get reborn as soon as that variant came of age to start making seeds and whatnot.

But with a human, Alraune couldn’t promise that she could bring them back.

And more than that, her scent on him is so attractive. She wants to smell it everyday. She wants him to be a mess under her everyday. Moaning and gasping and making more bloom dew for her to lap up. And then his virgin seed. Humans are odd things. They’re like unfinished alraunes. How they’ve managed to not died out yet baffles her.

Alraune shapes her roots into legs and walks onto the floor. Her hip vines grabs the fabric hides humans like to sleep with. The blankets and the covers and more. She gathers them and bundles Arlo right up. This will have to do until she can acquire proper alraune attire for him. His human wear wouldn’t do. It gets wet too easily and he’s surely freeze in the cold without something thicker. No wonder humans hide in their homes in the winter.

They’re much like the alraune in that respect but again, plant-beast don’t lose an entire season simply because of some cold weather. They have ways around it.

She ties Arlo to her back and sheds a layer to make a garment for herself.

A cord across her breast and a pair of covering for her privates. It’s all she can make for now.

“Quest,” Alraune says.

The screen appears.

 

[Q?e?t! Q?e?t! Q?e?t]

 

The ancient monster Spore has been roused from their slumber by a great and terrible evil! To combat this foe, all pollen spawn must engage in human capture and root out the threat.

[Current Quest Parameters are as followed:]

[All villagers captured: Success!]

[All village homes invaded: Success!]

[Current Occupation of the Village: 75% and rising.]

[Evil Found: Failure!]

[Time before a [Hero]’s appearance: 1 hour remaining.]

 

“Update quest. I’m in a hurry.”

 

[Q?e?s?! Q?e?t! Q?e?t!]

The [V?ll?g?r] Alraune has found a [Demon Lord Candidate]!

With their union, they can lead the [SPAWN] pollen phantom alraunes to the source of the infection spreading over the land!

[Current Quest Parameters are as followed:]

[Time remaining for Quest’s Completion: 1 hour]

[Evil Found: Incomplete]

[Road Traveled: Incomplete]

[DLC Condition: Good]

 

Alraune slaps her hands to her cheeks. She can do this. Everyone is counting on her! The humans, the spawn and Spore!

“Arlo, activate demon lord candidate skill: [Monster Allure].”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monster of the Day: Alraune! 
> 
> Plant-beasts that are excellent in both magical attack and magical defense. Until they reach level 15 or go under a corresponding [Monster Evolution], their natural defense lags behind. To make up for this, alraunes usually augment their physical attacks with poison and make do with their high speed and evasion to escape fights they can't win. 
> 
> Shocking to all common belief, they don't come from a race of female-only monsters. 
> 
> They're not girls that look like plants. They're plants that look like girls. 
> 
> It's extremely rare to see a male variant as those of the Alraune usually favor a female appearance simply out of common preference.


	5. Reboot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Light novel trash meet light novel class!

Arlo kneels in front of the rabbit hole. It’s the last one he’s scouted in the grassland glen. Or, at least from what he’s been able to find so late in the day, the freshest one around. He palms the ground. Fingers stroking the mix of wet spring soil and newborn grass. Everything crinkles. Everything’s moist and warm and fresh. He finds what he’s looking for. Feels it. Hears it through his soft palms. The tremor in the soil. The shiver of the creature nesting below.

Thump, says the earth. Thuuump, says the prey.

The rabbit’s here.

Arlo sits upright. Readies. He pulls out his hunting holster and takes out what he needs. One brush and a small vial of elmtree sap. Arlo takes the brush and dips it into the uncorked vial. The sticky yellow sap sinks into the horse hair. With his free hand, Arlo grabs a pair of waiting leafs and pains them. Stickies them together before folding their large lengths to make a wide-mouthed funnel. He adds more and more leafs to the funnel. Its size increasing until the funnel’s mouth is big enough to cover the grassy hole.

Nearby, a small fire waits.

Arlo moves the funnel over the hole and with his thumbs, he pushes an opening through the other side of the tapered end. That should be enough. He moves the funnel. Sits it on top of the hole and pushes it firm into the ground. His leafy creation making lines in the loose soil. Then Arlo gets up. He goes to the fire and lights a leaf, the tip now smoking a reddish mist. Rotleaf. He comes back to the funnels and folds the leaf in half. He pushes it through. It slots in nicely. Blood ash sprinkling down.

The smoke rises after a while.

One thin red smoke trail stinking up the spring afternoon.

Arlo gathers another leaf and slathers it with wet soil and clingy mud. He places it onto the funnel’s tapered end. Blocking out the exit for the smoke. Watches. There’s no more smoke on his now. But for the rabbit below… The ground under him quakes. There’s a squeak. No… There’s squeaking. Something tries to kick the funnel away from below. Small paws weakly knocking against the curved leaf. Arlo watches and shrugs his shoulders. Hunting is nothing but waiting, waiting, waiting.

“C’mon, little guy. Don’t pass out. Run. Run!”

Finally, the rabbit gets it. The animal scampers off within the underground tunnels. The thin layer of soil shaking as it goes. Arlo takes off after it. He whoops, cackling. Arlo runs wild in Elmgrass Grove, barefooted and windmilling like a dumbass. His knees have been killing him, furry motherfucker! The rabbit zips left and right. Arlo mimics, pushing himself over the few large rocks that dot the sloping terrain.

Another rabbit hole is in sight.

Is the bastard going to go for it? Is he? Is he?!

The ground rattles under Arlo’s feet. The rabbit zooming for that exit. Yes! Yes, he is! Arlo sprints to beat the rabbit there. He slides on his bare soles, the wet grass as slick as he needs it. He winds up tripping, can’t quite get the landing right just yet, and fumbles in front of the opening.

Arlo leans over the opening, teeth and lips a nasty growing grin.

The rabbit sees him in the dark. Brown eyes a glint in the dim darkness. It eyes the gap between his legs. The little beast doesn’t relent. It runs forward, teeth bared. Arlo smiles harder. The rabbit pops through the hole and falls, bound. The more it struggles, the more stuck it gets. Brown paws and legs covered and coated in leaf ropes and elmgrass sap. It squeaks and squeaks until it goes boneless, exhausted.

“And this makes you, Mr. 31! I’ve finally fulfilled the quest requirements!”

Arlo leans low and scoops up the rabbit by the neck. They never resist anymore once he had them in his hands. He brings the creature up to his face. Brown fur. Black eyes. One standard grassland rabbit. Exactly like the Adventurer’s Quest asked for.

Well… They actually asked for just ten rabbit. But for some reason, the first set didn’t count. And the second set didn’t count. But this time, it’ll count. Probably. For this reason, he’s captured a one extra to make it a lucky eleven. The rabbit sniffs his face. Ears quivering in curiosity. Arlo glares at it. All rabbits act the same.

“Don’t you dare. I will not release you even if you-”

The rabbit licks his nose.

“…lick me.”

Arlo sways back and forth. Guuuh, that’s so cute. He can’t help himself. He gives the rabbit a peck right back. Is it just him or is the rabbit blushing? Can they even blush through their fur?

He tilts the rabbit to the side, wondering if he’ll see some berry juice run off its cheeks.

Nope. And it’s still blushing. Weird.

The rabbit averts its face, blushing even harder. Arlo stares at it. As far as he could tell, this is a grassland rabbit. Brown fur. Black eyes. Two tails. And one long prehensile slime-green tongue. Wait? It has... what?! One of the rabbit tails slides down its backside and weaves up over to tickle his waist. Rabbits couldn’t do that, could they? Well… this wasn’t the first one that acted like thi-

“And as you can see there, that’s our resident weirdo. Arlo Brey. Job Class: Villager.”

Arlo stiffens in place.

That word! Villager. He shudders to his core.

“Bree!” he barks out. “Don’t call me that! I am an adventuring hopeful. See? See!” Arlo cradles the rabbit into his side and with his free hand, digs out the quest’s pamphlet. “They don’t just give these to anybody.”

Bree shrugs from up high on the hill.

“I’m a villager. You’re a villager. What’s the problem? Why do you get so mad, villager man. Man of the village. Village man from when you were a village boy. We were village friends from since we were village kids.” Nora pauses, making ghostly hands at him. “Villager.” she drive in with a pop of her lips.

Arlo groans.

Bree starts down the hill, a woman of twenty-two. Her large tan skirts kick up in the wind, revealing her brown work boots and the white leggings she wears under them. Bree’s brown locks sway in the wind, her bangs damp with both sweat and dirt. She always likes to stick her nose into someone’s business.

But Arlo guesses that what’s expected of a village chief’s daughter.

She has to know and mock everything.

Bree slides the rest of the way down and leaps for him. He’s too slow to escape her. She grabs him by his collars and tucks him between her arm and crest. Her sizable breasts smothering him to death while she laughs. There must be something in the milk of her farm to let her be so tall. She’s a head over him.

“Is that a rabbit in your pants or are you just happy to see me?”

Arlo groans.

“I’m not having this conversation with you.”

Arlo pushes a hand against to the globs of flesh that sits on Bree’s chest. They jiggle in response, smacking right back him. Why did her breasts have to be so fat and perky? They’re nothing but weapons in Bree’s sexual arsenal. Demons!

“You’re just mad because I refuse to be a village husband. Face it! I don’t want to take a trade. I don’t want to take a wife. I want-”

Bree squishes him closer to her breasts.

“Huuuhh? Whatcha just say, punk? You think you’re too good for a village girl? Repent with your death.”

She outright smothers him. Death by fleshy marshmallows. What a horrible nice way to die.

“Wow, you two do this song-and-dance often? We appreciate the entertainment.”

Huh? Who said that?

Arlo forces his eyes open and looks the way Bree came.

On the hillside path leading to home, he sees a group of strangers. They’re dressed in strange armors and even stranger weapons. They give off an aura he’s never experienced before. Cloaks and blades and pelts and skimpy clothing. He knows who they are.

Adventurers.

Bree drops him and Arlo falls to the ground, catching his breath. The rabbit hides in his arms.

Adventurers, his mind repeats.

They’re five of them. A knight. A mage. A cleric. A swordsman. And… a fresh adventurer. Three men. Two women. Sharply, he can feel the difference between them. Humans who slay monsters and humans who are eaten by monsters. They might as well have been a completely different species. It’s hard to keep his eyes on them. They inspire fear that sinks into his limbs and make him weak.

God, it feels so good.

There they were, the people he wanted to be!

The obvious-looking adventurer, a girl, leaps off the hill and lands right next to him.

Her long silver hair whips in the wind, silky cords held aloft in her twin ponytails. You could always tell an adventurer from how they dressed, even more so from the others that chose to specialize. She’s wearing a mix of trash equipment and pricey bracelets to up her magical stats. And yet, she’s just as strange and compelling as the others. In nothing but a skimpy black turtleneck dress with a breastplate and a oversized belt on her waist, she commands respect despite her slender figure.

The girl’s purple eyes glow. White sigils overlaying her pupils. Was she using a [Skill]?

“Don’t play with the villagers too long, Laurel. We have classified business to attend to in Redrot Forest.”

That’s the knight speaking. He sounds muffled under all that armor. Too muffled.

Was the adventurer his subordinate?

Arlo moves his eyes to the knight’s armor. Expecting to find a family crest or the mark of either the RRA (Royal Rune Army) or the AAK (Armies of the Aligned Kingdoms). But there’s none to be found. How odd. The [Knight] job class is highly regulated. You usually had to pledge your name to a royal family or join the army. There were disgraced knights but they didn’t exactly walk around in bright daylight. Couldn’t with the high bounties on their heads.

“Understood sir,” the adventurer responds.

Now that he looks at them, the entire party seems a little off. They all wear bland clothing that vaguely hints at their job classes. And yet their aura… It’s so threatening and intense. They couldn’t be regular-

“Let’s go,” the knight says to the others. “Finish up here Laurel and meet us at the center of the forest.”

Then they shuffle off in a straight line, far more slave-like than he’d expect from freelance monster-hunters.

So strange…?

“I suppose my superior would like me to introduce myself,” Laurel starts. “I don’t particularly understand the sentiment. Why should I be friendly towards my kills?”

K-kills?

Arlo backs away with his feet and hands. The rabbit tries to nibble its way into his shirt. He wants to stand but the killing intent, it washes over him. His body is like jelly, resisting all his command to run. Arlo turns to Bree. She’s freezing in a similar state.

“I am Laurel Mundis and you are in violation of section four, article three of the Human Zone Act. However, as par acknowledgment of sentient and uprisen creatures, I will allow you a chance to explain yourself.”

“E-explain? What do you mean, explain? I was here first!” Arlo shouts.

“Why are you threatening us? What do you mean, ‘in violation’? I was just showing you around!”

Laurel silently unsheathes her weapon.

“Your chance has passed.”

It’s a blade. One sword as silver as the girl’s hair. She swings it slowly and brings its sharp edge to point toward him. “In the name of Saint Giaaia and all her holy works, I shall slay you for the good of this land. May your death serve as a warning to all that would impose our human dominion-”

The rabbit skittles out his arm and flees.

Laurel clicks her teeth and walks a few feet forward.

The rabbit is a brown dot among the fields of green. There’s no way that she could reach it without a bow or a staff. Arlo studies here. He doesn’t see either weapon. Just a sword with a small reach. And yet, she looks so determined. Laurel tucks some lone strands of hair behind her hair. The rabbit gets further and further away. Why does she still have her sword out?

Laurel grips the sword’s hand and the blade glows with a clear light.

She swings.

The blade sings and a hellish wave of sword magic is released. The wind-slitting blow cuts through the grassland, chasing after the rabbit. It pierces it. The rabbit briefly splitting into two splatters of greenish goo with a single orb dodging the blow. Laurel swings again and again. This time, her magic-made blows coming from the east and west. Tearing into the fake rabbit and destroying the orb within.

“It is done.”

Laurel resheathes her weapon.

“Huh?”

Arlo leaps up and tackles her.

“What are you doing upon my person?”

He grabs her by the shoulders and hugs her, shouting his praises. Didn’t she know how cool she looked? How awesome it was? What was that skill she used? What was her level? Where did she train? Could she teach him everything?

Laurel blushes, her body so soft and slim in his embrace.

He plops his chin on her head, rewarding him with another indignant squeak. She’s so fun to squeeze. Is this how Bree feels every time she bullies him? Her armored hands grasp onto his shirt, clawing in. Huh? Did she like the hugging too?

In the background, Arlo hears Bree say snidely. “A real wife doesn’t get threatened so easily.”

“I’m not your husband, Bree.”

“That’s fine as long as you acknowledge me as your first wife and accept my last name.”

“That still implies marriage!”

“Why are you so mean, Arlo? Are you trying to get me all hot and bothered?! My future husband is hugging another girl. This is cruel. This is super cruel. I won’t be apart of a harem unless I’m first wife. I knew you first. I deserve it first.” Bree lowers her voice. “And all your side wives can get my last name too, hehehehe.”

“And this is why I won’t join a union with you. I am not a piece of man-meat that you can-”

“Villagers are really friendly,” Laurel murmurs before clearing her voice. Wow, she’s now using her stern voice. Arlo reluctantly lets her go. He isn’t that much of a bully. He just had a habit of cuddling cute things that could kill him. “But you two were lucky I was around, that slime could have eaten the both of you. Or worse, followed you home and went after the entire town.”

Arlo and Bree share a look.

“W-what?” Laurel states, resting her hands on her hips. “I’m just warning you of the consequences.”

They snort.

“What did I say? Am I wrong?”

Bree waves a hand. “Oh, you know. Outsiders.” She rolls her eyes. “Village traditions. Where’s the rabbit hutch, Arlo? Since I’m here, I might as well help you bring them to town.”

Arlo stretches and points. “About over there.”

The pair of them take off, leaving Cygnus behind.

“Hey! Hey wait! I just saved your lives.”

Arlo holds a hand over his mouth out of respect. Bree doesn’t. She snorts even louder.

They reach the rabbit hutch and lift the wooden box up. Ten rabbits push themselves up against the side where Arlo holds them. Sticking their little furry snout out for pets and rubs. Arlo indulges them. He pets them freely to the amusement of Bree. He feels her weighty stare. He blushes despite himself.

“Hello, villagers! Why are you ignoring me? You both owe me your gratitude.”

Laurel walks after them.

“Didn’t you have to meet up with your boss?” Bree reminds. “He doesn’t seem like the understanding type.”

“That’s true.”

Arlo thinks for a moment.

“Hey. Hey! Can’t you do the [Village Chief] skill so she won’t get into trouble?”

“You’re just asking so you can ogle me, aren’t you?”

“What’s there to ogle?” Arlo points out. “All I see is my faithful childhood enemy.”

Laurel rushes around them.

“What do you mean by village chief skill? Villagers don’t have things like skills or special moves.”

“Sure we do!” Bree boasts, pounding against her chest. “It’s just that it’s completely useless outside of human settlements. All of our skill sets end up as passive bonuses from what we experience each and every day.” Bree pushes the rest of the rabbit hutch into Arlo’s hands. “Some more than others.”

Arlo ignores the dig.

“I’m not marrying you no matter what.”

He is swiftly ignored.

“I’ll admit it isn’t as fancy as the [Adventurer] or [Knight] class but we’re important, damn it.” Bree unclips the village’s pendant from her neck and holds it out. “Behold!”

The pendant ignites, surging with golden power. Bree clutches it in her hands and prays.

“In the name of my village, I place upon thee, adventurer, a great charge!”

The winds kick up, coiling around her solitary figure. The light sweeps through her body. Her figure becomes bright and near see-through. The words she speaks are given form and leave her throat as solid misty letters. It is, for one word, awesome. Arlo holds his ground against the out pour of power coming from Bree’s [Village Chief’s Proclamation]. Laurel, on the other hand, is less than graceful.

She drops to her knees.

And there might be a little ‘I’m not worthy’ weeping going on too.

“There is a great need for your service. Understand this. Should you skirt this charge, fortune and favor shall not fall upon you. Adventurer-”

“Yes, m’lady! Anything! Anything!”

“Escort two villagers to the village of Haiden’s Hamlet. Current villagers escorted 0/2.”

“W-what? Are you kidding me? That’s not a quest! That’s bullshi-”

The light show ends and Bree is standing there as normal. She reclips her pendant and holds out a hand for the floating proclamation. The words touch her hands and reform into a quest scroll. “I wonder if I made a good one this time?” Bree unfurls for Arlo’s inspection.

[!!Emergency Quest!!]

[Escort Villagers Bree and Arlo to the village of Haiden’s Hamlet!]

The kingdom depends on you!

[Exp Reward: 10]  
[Gold Earned: 0]  
[Friendship Gained: Priceless]

“Wow,” Arlo admires. “You managed to give out more experience this time. And hey, don’t think I didn’t notice that. I’m not a villager. I’m an adventurer hopeful. Change that.”

Bree sticks out her tongue.

“Fine, you big baby.”

She flicks the scroll and the words change.

[!!Emergency Quest!!]

[Escort Villager Bree and Adventurer Wannabe Arlo to the village of Haiden’s Hamlet].

The kinGdom diiekomsa on eyo!

[Exp Reward: 01]  
[Gold Earned: 0]  
[Friendship Gained: Priceless]

“Eeesh, Laurel doesn’t even 10 experience points this time.”

“I’m not going to mess with it again. It’s such a pain in the ass to construct and form.” Bree turns to the adventurer. “So uh, Laurel? Quest?”

There’s no response.

“I think we broke her.”

“Adventurers.”


End file.
